thumb across the colourful little rainbow of gems on my body.
Once we’re showered and dressed, Lucca sits casually on the oversized velveteen chaise lounge in his bedroom, watching me getting ready. He drapes his arms casually across the back of it and leans back, spreading his legs lazily.
This image I love—when he’s relaxed, casual.
Smart and sexy.
I put the Cartier watch on and the diamond bracelet Lucca gave me in Florence. I pin my wavy hair up loosely then lean over to buckle the strap on my tan Givenchy high heels.
“Come here,” Lucca says when he notices me fumbling with the strap.
I wiggle over as my shoes aren’t properly secured, and he pulls me onto his lap, then lifts my leg one by one, fastening the strap buckle around my ankle.
“Better?” he asks.
“Much.”
He runs his smooth fingers across my ankles then weaves them up my legs until he reaches the hem of my dress. His touch sends ripples over my body. The smallest gestures and simplicity of these touches set off amazing electricity through my veins.
“You look stunning, simply beautiful,” he says.
“So do you. You look so damn handsome in your suit.”
His eyes smile with gratification at my words. Once downstairs, straightening up, I look in the huge hallway mirror before lifting my Valentino clutch bag. This dress is loose but elegantly cut in a contemporary shape and fitted near the bottom. Very different in style to what I would normally wear, but I do love it. Satisfied, I take Lucca’s hand to greet Marco outside. He’s a very loyal friend to Lucca, and I know he thinks highly of him.
We arrive at one of Franco’s brother’s restaurants in Glasgow called La Tavola Italiana—the Italian Table. Marco parks the car, and Lucca leads me into the restaurant. The entire ground floor is busy with diners; even midweek, these restaurants are booked.
On entering, everyone stops to turn and stare. I suspect I need to get used to being in public with Lucca as he draws a lot of attention. He’s so handsome and people just can’t help themselves.
I clutch onto his hand just a little tighter. “They are staring at you because you are so damn beautiful,” he whispers into my ear. Blushing, I glance around choosing to ignore his comment because he has no idea just how attractive he is to women everywhere.
There is a bustling feel to the restaurant as it isn’t small and intimate like some quaint Italian restaurants. It’s more commercialised, but still warm and inviting. Franco’s brother, Rafaello de Santis, has done exceptionally well. He has spent fifty-one years building his empire and remains very hands on, spending most of his time in this restaurant.
Two attractive men walk towards us as we enter. Armando, Lucca’s younger brother, has the same dark skin and dark inky hair as Lucca. Although it’s cut shorter and has a fashionable, raised styled fringe. I can see the resemblance to Lucca and Orianna in him; although Lucca has more of Marissa’s looks, but they all appear to have Antonio’s crystal blue eyes.
Armando is slimmer and not as muscular or defined as Lucca. Rafaello is Franco’s twin brother and could be mistaken for Franco himself if it wasn’t for the brown birthmark at the side of Rafaello’s eyebrow.
“It is an honour to finally meet you, Lexi. My brother Franco was not exaggerating after all. You are truly a beautiful young woman. Congratulations on your recent engagement. The family is delighted for you. We will need to have a celebratory evening to give you a chance to meet everyone,” Rafaello says, holding my hands in front of him after double cheek kissing. Lucca has already told me his family and extended family is huge, a complete contrast to my small family.
“Thank you, Rafaello. That would be lovely, and thank you for your kind words. I hope to make Lucca very happy. He has such a wonderful family.”
Armando smiles widely. “So this is the beautiful girl who is finally going to
Once we’re showered and dressed, Lucca sits casually on the oversized velveteen chaise lounge in his bedroom, watching me getting ready. He drapes his arms casually across the back of it and leans back, spreading his legs lazily.
This image I love—when he’s relaxed, casual.
Smart and sexy.
I put the Cartier watch on and the diamond bracelet Lucca gave me in Florence. I pin my wavy hair up loosely then lean over to buckle the strap on my tan Givenchy high heels.
“Come here,” Lucca says when he notices me fumbling with the strap.
I wiggle over as my shoes aren’t properly secured, and he pulls me onto his lap, then lifts my leg one by one, fastening the strap buckle around my ankle.
“Better?” he asks.
“Much.”
He runs his smooth fingers across my ankles then weaves them up my legs until he reaches the hem of my dress. His touch sends ripples over my body. The smallest gestures and simplicity of these touches set off amazing electricity through my veins.
“You look stunning, simply beautiful,” he says.
“So do you. You look so damn handsome in your suit.”
His eyes smile with gratification at my words. Once downstairs, straightening up, I look in the huge hallway mirror before lifting my Valentino clutch bag. This dress is loose but elegantly cut in a contemporary shape and fitted near the bottom. Very different in style to what I would normally wear, but I do love it. Satisfied, I take Lucca’s hand to greet Marco outside. He’s a very loyal friend to Lucca, and I know he thinks highly of him.
We arrive at one of Franco’s brother’s restaurants in Glasgow called La Tavola Italiana—the Italian Table. Marco parks the car, and Lucca leads me into the restaurant. The entire ground floor is busy with diners; even midweek, these restaurants are booked.
On entering, everyone stops to turn and stare. I suspect I need to get used to being in public with Lucca as he draws a lot of attention. He’s so handsome and people just can’t help themselves.
I clutch onto his hand just a little tighter. “They are staring at you because you are so damn beautiful,” he whispers into my ear. Blushing, I glance around choosing to ignore his comment because he has no idea just how attractive he is to women everywhere.
There is a bustling feel to the restaurant as it isn’t small and intimate like some quaint Italian restaurants. It’s more commercialised, but still warm and inviting. Franco’s brother, Rafaello de Santis, has done exceptionally well. He has spent fifty-one years building his empire and remains very hands on, spending most of his time in this restaurant.
Two attractive men walk towards us as we enter. Armando, Lucca’s younger brother, has the same dark skin and dark inky hair as Lucca. Although it’s cut shorter and has a fashionable, raised styled fringe. I can see the resemblance to Lucca and Orianna in him; although Lucca has more of Marissa’s looks, but they all appear to have Antonio’s crystal blue eyes.
Armando is slimmer and not as muscular or defined as Lucca. Rafaello is Franco’s twin brother and could be mistaken for Franco himself if it wasn’t for the brown birthmark at the side of Rafaello’s eyebrow.
“It is an honour to finally meet you, Lexi. My brother Franco was not exaggerating after all. You are truly a beautiful young woman. Congratulations on your recent engagement. The family is delighted for you. We will need to have a celebratory evening to give you a chance to meet everyone,” Rafaello says, holding my hands in front of him after double cheek kissing. Lucca has already told me his family and extended family is huge, a complete contrast to my small family.
“Thank you, Rafaello. That would be lovely, and thank you for your kind words. I hope to make Lucca very happy. He has such a wonderful family.”
Armando smiles widely. “So this is the beautiful girl who is finally going to
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